


luminosity

by skuls



Series: Half-Light Universe [3]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, half-light au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 23:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuls/pseuds/skuls
Summary: They find out when she has another nosebleed.(kid-fluff set post miraculous)





	luminosity

**Author's Note:**

> part of the half-light universe, set post miraculous and the ending scene of chapter 15. (in the rewritten version of the universe.)

They find out when she has another nosebleed. It's after dinner, William curled sleepily in Mulder's lap while they watch _Jeopardy_. She's working on grading papers, lost in the scratch of her pen and Alex Trebek’s voice in the background when Mulder says something that doesn't start with a cocky, “What is…?” “Scully,” he says, terrified.

Scully looks up, confused. “What…” Mulder motions to her nose, face sheet-white. She brings her hand to her nose and feels the trickle of blood.

At any other point in her life (in _either_ reality), this particular ailment likely would've made her blood run cold with terror. But she feels curiously calm. Somehow, she knows what it is. “It's okay, Mulder,” she says, reaching across the cushions and taking his hand.

His eyes are wide; he reaches out and touches her face. “Scully, what if it's…”

“It's okay,” she repeats. She gives him a small smile before turning and reaching for the Kleenex.

“Mama?” Behind the wad of Kleenex she's pressed to her nose, she can see William staring at her in a similar way to how Mulder is looking at her, eyes wide with fear. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sweetie,” she says, voice muffled by tissues. “I'm fine.”

William crawls off of Mulder's lap and onto hers. “You have a boo-boo?”

She pinches her nose and lowers the wad of Kleenex. “Sort of.” She wraps her arms around her son. “But I'm okay now.”

William kisses her cheek at the corner of her nose. “Better now.”

“That's right.” She kisses the top of his dark head and looks past him to Mulder.

Mulder is looking at her with less panic, though it hasn't completely faded. “Scully, you don't think it could be… like last time?” he asks softly, motioning to William where he can't see because he's got his face buried in her shoulder.

“I do,” Scully says calmly, rubbing their son's back. It makes sense now that she thinks about it: the nausea in the morning, the period she'd missed last month. She'd been autopsying on a massive serial killer investigation that lasted nearly a month, and had chalked everything up to stress. Somehow, she hadn't even considered the possibilities, but _now._ Now…

“We need to find out,” Mulder says stubbornly. He grabs her hand from William's back and holds on tight. “We need to find out right away.”

She would argue with him, but he's clearly focused on his goal, unable to give up on it. “Okay,” she says. “Why don't I go read Will his story and you can go on?”

Mulder nods, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before letting her go. She stands, scooping up William and holding him on her hip. “You're getting too big to be held like this,” she says to Will, smoothing his hair.

“Not too big!” William wriggles in her arms. “Not too big, Mama!”

“Too big _for_ Mama, maybe,” Mulder says, and Scully socks him in the arm. He stands and leans down to kiss William. “Good night, buddy.” He ruffles his hair. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Daddy,” says William. “You did really good in _Jeopardy_.”

Mulder laughs. “Thanks, Will. It means a lot.” His eyes meet Scully's. “I'll be right back,” he says softly. She nods.

She tucks William in, reads two books and kisses him goodnight, leaves the door cracked just like always. She finds Mulder in the kitchen, strangling a Walgreens bag in his hand. “I got it,” he says abruptly, shoving it at Scully.

“Thank you.” She takes the bag and sets it on the counter. “It's okay, Mulder, really,” she says soothingly, putting a hand on his jaw.

“Are you sure?” He's apprehensive, practically bouncing.

“I'm not, but we'll know in a few minutes.” She motions to the bag on the counter. “And besides that, this feels different than when I was sick. It feels the same as it was with William.”

His eyes widen; he looks down at her stomach, still flat under her overlarge t-shirt she stole from his drawer. “It does?”

“It does,” she confirms. She leans forward and kisses his cheek. “It's okay, Mulder. Go check on William. I'll be out in a few minutes.”

When she's done with the pregnancy test, she sets it on the counter, sits on the floor and counts silently, fingers tangled in her lap. She hopes, she hopes. She pictures the pink positive sign in the little window. She hasn't thought about having more kids since William was born, but she's certainly never been opposed to it. Some part of her always wanted William to have siblings. And Mulder… Mulder has wanted more kids for years now. She moves a hand to cover her stomach, thinks of the last time she did this, in the other place: in a shabby motel bathroom, crouching on the grimy tiles, terror coursing through her, turning to relief as the negative sign had popped up on the little stick. She feels none of that now, only anticipation. She has her son, she's not going to send him away again. She has Mulder and they are happy. They're a family, the three of them, and she wouldn't mind it becoming four. She hopes it will.

She checks her watch, reaches for the test where she left it on the counter. Smiles.

Mulder is waiting for her when she comes out, looking down at his shoes. His head shoots up as she exits, nervousness dancing across his face. “Scully?”

She grins at him, handing him the test. “Remember how you wanted another kid?”

His eyes light up and he gathers her up in his arms, hugging her tightly. “You're… you're pregnant?” he says into her hair. She nods into his shoulder, arms tightly around his neck. He laughs, elated. “That's amazing! That's amazing… Scully…”

“I _know_ ,” she whispers, pressing her nose into the side of his neck. Her heart is pounding so hard that she thinks Mulder must be able to feel it. That the baby must be able to feel it. _The baby,_ she thinks and smiles, tightening her arms around Mulder. He cups the back of her head, tipping it back and kissing her face again and again. She giggles wildly, smiling so much that it hurts. “Mulder,” she whispers, fingers curling into his hair. “We're gonna do this all over again.”

“I know.” He kisses her forehead, her nose, her mouth. “Maybe without the UFO risk this time.”

She laughs, kissing him again. “That's the hope.”

He gathers her closer, chin on top of her head. “Scully,” he whispers. “We're gonna have another baby.”

“I know,” she says into his t-shirt, and smiles again. They're going to have a baby. Everything is different in this universe, and they are going to have a baby.

\---

They tell William a few days later, and he is excited, especially at the prospect of eventually having a new playmate. Melissa sends congratulations and a muffin basket with Monica to work. There is excitement from both sides of the family and it is dizzying, although the whole thing is considerably less dramatic than the last time Scully found out she was pregnant. Mulder is there when they find out, for the first time, and there are no abductions or UFOs this time. There are no visions, this time, no dreams of their future child telling her what's real and what isn't. This baby is a complete stranger. No underlying guilt or panic, just excitement and the scariness of being new parents without the underlying fear that they will lose this child, that it will all end badly. Just happiness.

Scully notices that nearly four months after they find out is the anniversary of Mulder's abduction. She doesn't realize until sometime after William has gone to bed. Mulder's gone on a case and Monica had called to say that they were getting on a flight home a few hours before, but the nerves still rise up when she remembers the date. She tells herself that this universe is different, that he's coming back this time, that it's going to be okay. She sits up and watches TV late into the night, her hand pressed against her stomach where the baby is moving. When he comes in the door, exhaustion written on his face, she doesn't get up and rush to hug him in relief. She takes his hand calmly as he sits beside her and leans over to kiss him gently. “Miss me?” he teases, hand moving over the slight roundness of her stomach.

“You have no idea,” she says, smiling softly.

They bicker over names, over whether the baby's a boy or a girl, over paint colors for the baby's room. Scully has something of a theory that Mulder picked this apartment because of the extra bedroom across from William's room that they'd turned into an office. In the end, they end up moving most of the items into Mulder's office and give the desk to Samantha. (She got a degree in journalism and is pursuing a job in investigative journalism after a brief stint freelancing for the Gunmen. Mulder likes to joke that it's ironic that his sister wants to be a reporter, the sworn enemy of law enforcement. Samantha claims it's revenge for all the teasing when they were kids.) William insists on helping paint the baby's room, which ends in the only way a situation like that possibly could: with William and Mulder both covered in paint and tiny handprints all over the wall. Scully can't stop laughing. She takes at least half a roll of pictures. Mulder kisses her in the midst of the bare bones of the crib and leaves green handprints on her white shirt.

Scully has nightmares in the last few months of her pregnancy--not nearly as vivid as the flashbacks she'd had in the early years of her partnership with Mulder (here), but still awful. (Mulder theorizes that it has something to do with her pregnancy. She's not entirely sure.) But still: winter of 2001 she associates with Mulder's death, Mulder's gravestone cold under her palm and grave dirt under her fingernails, and William kicking furiously, kicking for the very first time as she'd crouched beside Mulder's grave and she'd sobbed, pressing one hand to her stomach and the other to the stone. She has nightmares about Mulder gone, William gone, and wakes up gasping for breath.

Whenever this happens, Mulder kisses her forehead, wipes tears from her cheeks, whispers, “I'm here,” over and over again until her breathing slows and she feels anchored to earth again. She grips both of his hands and presses her forehead into his shoulder; he hugs her tightly and she remembers where they are.

William comes and crawls in bed sometimes, and she is relieved every time it happens. He likes to talk to the baby, likes to recount his day excitedly as he curls between them. She breathes easy with Mulder and William's breaths right beside her and the baby kicking furiously under her palm. “She's as restless as her father,” she says to Mulder one nightmare-less night, smoothing William's dark hair absently as he sleeps between them.

“You don't know that it's a girl,” Mulder says sleepily, grinning at her.

“Mmm. I know,” she whispers. “Trust me, Mulder.” Mulder's hand migrates to the spot where the baby's foot is fluttering and Scully drifts off to sleep, warm and dreamless.

Their daughter is born in March of 2001, a freezing Saturday. They have to leave early in the morning, as soon as Samantha comes over to take William to Baltimore, and Mulder makes her take his coat as they drive to the hospital, his fingers white around the steering wheel. Scully focuses on breathing, her hand on her stomach.

They haven't decided on a name yet; they've been bickering for months now, and Scully tries to keep it going, breathing in short gasps, teeth clenched and voice sharp. Mulder has more or less given up at this point, trying to dodge her provokes and holding her hand. He lets her squeeze his fingers as she pushes, kisses her temple as the doctor holds up the baby, dark-haired and squalling. “We have a daughter,” he whispers. “Scully. You were right. We have a _daughter_.”

Tears flood her eyes as the doctors lay the baby on her chest; she cups the baby's wet head under her hand and sniffles. “Hi, sweetie,” she murmurs. The baby whimpers, blinking up at her with huge, dark eyes that remind her of Samantha. Mulder is trembling, offering his hand to the baby and letting her curl her small hand around his pointer finger. Scully is shaking, too, tears trickling down her face; she kisses their daughter's forehead tenderly. “We've got you,” she says. “We've got you.” The baby fusses, waving an arm. Scully kisses her again, overwhelmed, holding her close to try and keep her warm. A tear hits the top of her head as Mulder strokes the baby's tiny back.

The nurses come and take the baby to clean her up, and Scully immediately misses her presence. She delivers the placenta quickly, and leans back into Mulder’s warmth as soon as it's over. He kisses her damp hair again, arms wrapping around her from behind. “We did it, Scully,” he says.

They are both watching the baby in the corner. Scully rests her head lazily against his bicep, eyes tracing over their daughter again and again. “What was that name you liked?” she whispers.

“Which one?”

“The one,” Scully says stubbornly. She wishes she could remember what it is, but her brain is scrambled, she can't think. “You know. The one. It's perfect for her.”

Mulder's quiet for a minute before offering, “Lily?”

Scully sniffles, smiling. “Yeah,” she says. “That one. Lily. It fits her.”

(Later, she will seemingly change her mind: when Lily is in the nursery and they are both supposed to be napping, breaking hospital protocol for Mulder to be curled around her on the hospital bed, she pokes him hard in the arm, snapping him out of the brink of sleep. “ _Lily Scully._ ”

“Hmm,” Mulder murmurs. “You don't like it anymore?”

“It's annoyingly phonetic, Mulder, what were we thinking? I can't believe you talked me into this.”

“If it bothers you, she could always be Lily Mulder,” he offers, eyes still closed.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Scully says, disgusted. “God, and don't get me _started_ on Lily and William. It's a good thing they're four years apart, because otherwise everyone would think they're twins.”

Mulder opens his eyes lazily. “No one's going to comment, I'm sure…”

“Oh, god, people are gonna want to call them Lily and Billy. Or Lily and Willie.” She sounds genuinely worried and annoyed. Mulder, even in his tired state, finds it slightly adorable.

“We made a pact that we'd only ever call him Will or William,” he reminds her. “Remember? No more variations on Bill, we agreed.”

“Oh, no one will listen to that,” Scully says with disgust. “My grandmother called Bill William and Charlie Charles for her entire life. Even though she _knew_ they hated it.”

He pushes hair behind her ear. “Do you want to change it?”

“No,” she growls. “She's a Lily. She is. I'm just saying that it's annoyingly phonetic.”

He kisses her forehead slowly and she leans into the embrace. “You know,” he whispers. “Lily Mulder is still on the table.”

“Shut up, Mulder,” Scully snaps. And that's it.)

(When they bring Lily back for feeding in the middle of the night, Scully holds out her arms eagerly. After feeding her, she cradles Lily on her chest, stroking her downy hair. “She's a Lily,” she whispers to Mulder. “She is.”

“I know, honey,” he says, overwhelmed by the sight of Scully and their daughter. He reaches out to stroke Lily's cheek and she yawns, hand curling into a fist. Scully doesn't protest the _honey_.)

Mulder spends the night in the chair beside the bed despite Scully's protests. “Force of habit, Scully,” he says, squeezing her hand. “Get some sleep, okay? You're gonna need it.”

Lily falls asleep in her father's arms. Neither of them can take their eyes off of her. Scully tries and fails to sleep, her cycle thrown off by too many uncomfortable nights of insomnia spent on the couch. (“I didn't know insomnia was a contagious disease,” Mulder had joked beside her and she'd shot him a dirty look fierce enough that he'd gone to check on William.) She lies on her side, eyes glued to their daughter. “I feel so lucky,” she says softly. “That we got a chance to know her… in the other place, we would've never…” She can't finish. She has a lump in her throat. She swallows it back and holds Lily's little hand in hers.

“I know,” Mulder says quietly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Lily Scully sleeps peacefully, and Scully is so grateful. She's more grateful than she ever could've imagined. The sun streams in the window slowly, creeping in through the blinds, and their daughter sleeps through her first sunrise. The world has never seemed brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> i said i’d never write any further in this universe, but if i’m being completely honest, that was mostly because i wanted mulder and scully to have a second kid and i couldn’t pick a name for said kid. i started writing in this universe again when i finally settled on one.   
> continuing my hypocrisy, this is somewhat a lead in to a potential sequel? i have an idea that i’ve already written a little bit of, and if i can get far enough into it that i feel secure about finishing it, than i’ll start posting. though i live in something of fear of ruining the original with a sequel, i’m having a lot of fun working on it as a side project. 
> 
> anyways! i hope this was enjoyable and not original-ruining.


End file.
